by Scott Rhine
“I don’t want to impose.”
“Don’t worry; it will give me a chance to have a long-overdue discussion.”
“How can I repay you?”
Yvette touched her face. “Don’t put off your happiness indefinitely.”
Mercy kept busy carrying an endless stream of plates to the guests and returning with the empties. Then she cut cake and served until the music began. When Lou glanced over at her with his roguish smile, she almost lost her resolve. She felt the heat rise to her face . . . and other places. To prevent disaster, Mercy volunteered to do dishes alone, enabling Johnny to dance with Rachael at the event.
****
When Lou appeared at the door to Olympus, Toby almost killed him then. Only Yvette’s intervention forced him to hold the mask of civility. She whispered to him, “Toby, please, if I ever meant anything to you, please stick around. My . . . knee has been hurting again, and I would like you to look at it.”
She looked stunning: her hair, bare arms, and the new sandals made from lizard hide. Still, Toby bridled. “I won’t be a laughingstock for that ass, Lou.”
Holding up her hand, she kept Lou from rising to the bait. “He’s promised to be good, and to leave as soon as we slip into subspace, which is scheduled for eleven. He’ll camp in a tent at Zeppelin Point.”
“Where’s the third person?”
“That can be you until Oleander finishes her guard shift.”
“Why should I wait? I’ve already worked more than my share.”
The nurse held up a bottle of vodka and uncovered a plate with half a pheasant and a huge slab of cake. “I come bearing gifts. Please?”
It couldn’t hurt to hear her out. “I’ll wait on the veranda till he’s done. I refuse to be in the same room.” Toby sat on the domino landing, enjoying the music of the frogs and the cool of the evening. Despite the opaque windows, he felt the jump to subspace as a twisting of a knife between his eyes, which caused him to spill his gingko tea. No matter how many times they entered subspace, he would never grow accustomed to the process.
Toby was mopping a little splash off the railing when Lou pushed past him. The pilot pointed at one of the stiles. “You missed some, Barf-jies.”
Yvette leaned against the entry arch at the top, swirling a squeeze bulb of alcohol. She called Toby’s name with a musical lilt. “Chilled, with a swirl of orange, the way you like it.”
The doctor smiled. “One of us is walking home alone, and it’s not me.”
Lou continued his descent. “Even a blind squirrel can find a nut once in a while.”
Toby stepped inside to accept the bulb from the French nurse and downed half the drink to cleanse his palate. “I’ll make you an orange juice. You’re on duty,” he muttered, giving her time to get situated. This also gave him the opportunity to slip the first dose into her drink.
When the pilot flashed his camping lantern as a signal, Yvette closed the outer door and pushed the reset button for the stairs. Then, she took off her sandals and strapped them beside the front door. They were alone now; no one could interrupt them.
When they were both seated in the dining room, he removed his headset, and she did the same.
“Is your drink too cold?” he asked. “I don’t want to aggravate your sensitive teeth.”
She sipped it and nodded her approval. “Just right.” Holding up her knee, she said, “I appreciate your . . . seeing me.”
He took his time examining her perfect knee, his fingers cupped underneath. He could feel the heat from her heel in his groin. When she cleared her throat, he responded, “I’m sorry. I still think of you. The knee is beautiful . . . I mean, fine. It will take six months before all the swelling is gone.”
Leaving her knee in his hands, she said, “I have a confession to make. Every time you courted Mercy, I was jealous.”
Briefly flattered, his battered pride flared. “Every time you slept with another candidate, or flirted with a dignitary, it killed me.”
She drew her leg back, placing both feet on the floor. “Ah, this is the heart of our misunderstanding.”
“Bullshit! You’ve screwed so many visitors, they started calling it ‘taking the base tour.’” His voice had a raw edge, and he downed the rest of his vodka like a shot.
Pale, Yvette tipped back a swig of her own drink. “You know I can’t lie. Look at me. I haven’t slept with any man since our time on the beach.”
He opened his mouth to rebut her but couldn’t. “Then why the show, the promiscuity?”
“I wanted you to fight for me, to go beyond your safe womb of reason and order—to break a few apron strings.”
“You got your wish then, woman.”
She was also an empath and could sense the rage he’d been fermenting and distilling like brandy. Her eyes grew wide. “What have you done?”
He snatched the headsets off her table, causing her to yelp in surprise. Then he snapped them off. “You haven’t done it yet. You’re planning something.”
“Step into the luggage room with me.”
“I can beat you in hand-to-hand.”
He held up empty hands. “You asked me. I’m going to show you. I . . . don’t want to hurt you.” Not anymore, at least not as much. “You’re right that it’ll feel good to get it out in the open.”
Curious, she followed him. He tapped open the doors to the storage area and waited in the archway, holding onto a long strap like someone on a subway. When Yvette landed, she faltered, her legs refusing to obey their normal commands. He wrapped the strap around her navel and arms, pinning her to the wall. She struggled until she heard the shing of his belt knife clearing its sheath. That one sound changed everything.
She started crying as she realized the depths of his madness and her part in pushing him this far. “You drugged me.”
“Just enough to take the edge off.”
“You’re going to kill Lou.”
Her voice shook, and that turned him on. “Yes. Slowly.”
Realizing she was probably dead, too, she bargained for the only thing she could. Using her free fingers and thumb, she undid his belt. The surprise kept him from reacting long enough for her to unbutton his pants. In a voice, barely louder than a thought, she said, “If you promise not to kill him, I’ll do anything you want.”
“Anything?” Toby was nearly hyperventilating from the excitement.
“We have six days,” she said, tempting him. The longer he enjoyed himself, the longer she would survive. “I’m sure a man of your . . . education can imagine several things he’s always wanted to try.”
“And you’d promise not to tell?” he asked, leadingly. The power was intoxicating.
She tried to lie, but couldn’t form the words. More tears flowed. Still, her pages compelled her to save a life. Maybe if she pleased him enough, nurtured him enough, he wouldn’t be able to kill her either. She kissed his cheek as she sobbed, “What happens between a man and a woman stays between that man and that woman. I give myself to you.”
“I’ve dreamed about this,” Toby said, embracing her.
****
Oleander lay beside Lou’s tent. “I’m going to see how things are going with the medical staff, whether they’re going to need me.”
She popped up to Olympus and heard the obvious thumping sounds coming from the open cargo room. She saw one of Toby’s bare legs and heard him giving Yvette instructions that sounded painful. Oleander vanished before the image it conjured was seared permanently into her mind’s eye. “Nope, Yvette has a handle on this.”
Lou moved his tent flap aside in an offer. “We could stand guard together.”
“Not after what I just saw.”
“Nothing physical—I’ve seen you watching Johnny. He opens the cafeteria early just to make you breakfast, but you want him to whip you up a batch of those special sticky buns.” When she started to deny the accusation, he raised his hands. “Hey, I’m not judging. What happens between two consenting adults the week
Rachael has Olympus duty is none of my business. I just wanted to talk.”
“About?”
“Tell me about your roommate, Mercy.”
Chapter 27 – Train Wreck
With twenty minutes to go till reentry into normal space, Toby safely locked Yvette in the luggage room, and then he lowered the helix staircase.
Lou ran up, panting. “Cutting it kind of close, aren’t you?”
Toby stood in his undershorts and T-shirt, holding the last bulb of vodka, doped with Rohypnol. The hypnotic would be necessary to erase or confuse the memories of the incident. “Sorry. She didn’t want me to go.”
As Lou verified several readouts around the room, including the name of the current flight path, he shook his head. “Six days of marathon sex. I’m impressed; I didn’t know you had it in you.”
“This has been the best week of my life. I don’t know if anything will ever equal it, but I’m hoping tonight will be memorable for different reasons.”
“Serious?”
“I never want Yvette to be with another man again. I’m taking steps to insure that. If you will agree she’s off limits to your predations, I will extend an olive branch—Herkemer’s finest.” Toby held out the bulb.
“Thanks. Put it by the bed. I don’t have time now.”
“I’ve seen you break the rules before. Come, show me there are no hard feelings.”
“Mate, I know where your lips have been, and there’s no way I’m sharing your drink.”
Toby would need to pour it down the shower drain. What a waste. He switched tactics. “Are you really necessary here?”
“The autopilot is pretty advanced. I may only be here for emergencies, but I have to stay sharp for that 1 percent chance.” Lou bent over to sign an electronic duty log and officially report for duty.
“I meant from an evolutionary standpoint,” Toby said, squinting upward at some shadows. Somehow, Yvette had managed to break free. He saw the tail of her leash flutter by in the breeze. Casually, he began to turn the windows opaque in the control room. “Someone who only wants to sow wild oats serves no purpose. Your line will become extinct, failed. Only my actions will have lasting effect.”
“Tell me that a year from now.”
“Hurry up and climb into your helmet. I’ve mixed a cocktail to prevent your nausea problems, and I want to give it time to activate before the show.”
“You did that for me, Bat-juice?”
“I didn’t have time to test it on a rat, but it should have the desired effect.”
Lou laughed and slid into his bed in the snowflake. “You know, doc. Next time someone says you’re not fit to fuck pigs, I’ll stand up for you and tell them you are.” The injection happened before he was fully belted in. “Ouch. Is it supposed to burn like that?”
“That pain won’t last long,” Toby said as someone tried to tap in from the outside. Because Lou was in the cradle, the door blinged, waiting for someone inside to grant permission.
Toby coughed in an effort to cover. “Shouldn’t you raise the stairs?” The suggestion, and what it might do to his lover, twisted his gut.
Already dopey from the injection, Lou muttered. “It’s flashing a warning triangle.”
Toby unrolled the blade wrapped in his own leash. He said, “I’ll check it out. If it’s nothing, you can override.”
****
The monumental crunch made Oleander look up. Everyone else was already safely inside. Only she and Mercy had remained outdoors. In another few minutes, the guard planned to pop inside for shelter from the transition effect.
“Sounded like a train wreck,” Oleander said.
Mercy raised her binoculars. “Oh crap. Lou raised the stairs while the storage-bay ramp was open. The domino-placement arm smashed a section of hull—a ramp that was still lowered. Pieces of domino are falling from the sky in slow motion.” Still barefoot, she started to run toward the accident site.
“Wait!” Oleander called to her. The other guard could have scouted ahead Out of Body, but she couldn’t leave her friend unprotected. Instead, she ran after the foolish girl. Oleander might have longer legs, but the younger girl did things with her whole heart. It was all the spacer could do to keep pace with Mercy.
They’d reached the berry patches when a timer went off at Oleander’s wrist. “Mercy!”
When the girl turned slightly, slowing, Oleander dove into the girl’s midsection, plowing through the blackberry brambles. Thorns tore at exposed skin, and juice stained their clothes.
“What?”
Oleander slammed the girl’s head down into the dirt, just as the sky opened with a blaze brighter than the Antarctic snow pack.
Realizing the peril as pain shot through both their closed eyelids, Mercy called out to Snowflake, and the massive shutters slammed closed.
“Report,” Zeiss snapped over the radio link.
“We’re too close to the sun,” Mercy said, blinking and trying to stand. Gravity changed directions and tossed the girl down the hill.
Barely able to see through the blue spots in her own vision, Oleander grabbed the girl’s ankle. “Stay here! Protect my body. I’m going to scout.”
She could tell Mercy wanted to keep running, but the girl wouldn’t abandon a friend either. “Roger.”
Speeding through the relaxation exercise, Oleander triggered something akin to a gag reflex and ejected herself from her physical form. Soon she was floating in Olympus’ zero-g room. Alarms were buzzing, and ten failure lights were vying for attention. Lou was thrashing on the couch, trying to steer them away from some danger. Where were the others? She saw space debris on one screen before she had to blink away to another room.
Homing in on the doctor’s weak signature, she saw Toby outside the shower stall, barely dressed, with Yuki on the floor. He had blood on his shirt and latex gloves. The symbol above the closed stasis hatch was black. In the dim light, he seemed to be engaged in some sort of emergency operation. Yuki’s arm, at an unnatural angle, was dripping red as he administered a series of injections.
“You are not going to go into shock. Stay with me!” he shouted to his patient.
Oleander crashed back into her own body, taking several deep breaths to avoid vomiting.
“What is it?” Mercy asked, helping her sit up.
“Lou trying to pull our fat out of a massive fire. According to the maps, we came out at the point closest to the sun, and there were asteroids. Things are breaking all over. Toby has problems of his own. The suspended-animation device stopped working, and he’s trying to save Yuki alone in the dark.”
“Alone? Where’s Yvette?”
“No clue. I couldn’t sense her aura.”
“No. No. No!” Mercy staggered to her feet, even as the ship swerved again. Brush pulled at her hair and clothes as she ran, leaving scratches on her face.
Oleander plowed after her, slowed by the effort of her recent Out-of-body excursion.
They could hear Lou screaming incoherently over the radio, and somehow Mercy found the reserve to run even faster. When Oleander caught up with the girl at Zeppelin Point, Mercy was making clawing gestures at the sky. “The helix is too damaged. Snowflake won’t lower it until we repair things, making them safe.”
“Which we can’t do unless we get up there—120 meters. How good are you at jumping?” Oleander joked.
Mercy scanned the swamp. Most of the dominoes were in shattered pieces, but she pulled a whole one out of the foul bog. “I should be able to do it with a few of these and a good head start. Help me dig another one out.” Over the radio, she bellowed, “Herk! We need your help.”
All the campers showed up as fast as they could. Mercy had them splashing around to claim dominoes before the technology sank out of sight, to be recycled by the ecosystem.
“Status?” demanded Zeiss.
Oleander said, “I checked on the crew in Olympus a few more times, but I couldn’t stay long. Lou flew us clear of the hazards; though he’s still
on the couch. Toby had to get radical—the laser torch—but he looks overwhelmed. I saw a lot of blood on the floor, and a couple of empty plasma bags.”
Red checked the scout’s pupils. “You’ve overextended. How long since you’ve slept or eaten?”
“Too long,” Oleander admitted.
In all, the scavengers located three dominoes. Red asked, “What’s the plan?”
Mercy looked like hell with the reeking mud matted in her hair, but she answered like a professional. “I strap two of the boards to my back and put the other into glide mode. We get as close to the column as we can, and Herk throws me as high as possible. When I reach apogee, I’ll lock the board in place. I keep one domino on my back as a parachute and use the other two to climb leap-frog style up to the patio.”
“You could be fried if static electricity arcs out of the column at the wrong time,” Herk noted.
“The mean time between eruptions is thirty-seven minutes,” Mercy recited.
“That doesn’t leave much time for this bootstrap trick,” Herk grumbled.
“Which is why you’re throwing me. I’d use a seesaw, but the swamp wouldn’t cooperate.”
Risa said, “I could rig something. You’ll need us to fetch climbing ropes.”
“No time. Lou is still in the snowflake interface. If we don’t pull him out soon, his brain is going to cook. He might be unconscious already.”
“Your arm strength isn’t as high as a man’s,” Zeiss said.
“I’m also not as heavy, and I’ve surfed before. The longer I can stay in glide, the quicker we can save them.”
“I’m lighter and can pilot,” Red insisted.
“Which is why we can’t risk you. I have medical training and can lower a ladder to the rest of you as soon as things are stable.”
Zeiss cursed. “Toby’s not answering his headset.”